


The True Price of Come Inflation

by telm_393



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, No Refractory Period, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robin Hood References, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 00:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19073752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telm_393/pseuds/telm_393
Summary: Robin Wood’s beloved Maid Mary Anne is dying for want of a medicinal come bath, but the price of the drow come that will cure her of her ills is entirely out of the reach of those without more money than they know what to do with.Desperate, Robin decides to steal from a rich villager. It’s the only way.Unfortunately, he gets caught, but the Sheriff of Boningham may be persuaded to bend the rules just this once…





	The True Price of Come Inflation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mornelithe_falconsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/gifts).



> So the general idea that this story is based around is the fault of the EAD Discord, as I am not funny enough to dream up this particular flavor of come inflation on my own. 
> 
> The We Die Like Fen rules state that there are no pinch hits. Let this tale stand as a monument to the fact that that is a lie.
> 
> Note that I did not realize that there was a character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer named Robin Wood while writing this, but apparently there is, so. That was not intentional.

Robin is on his knees. His hands are shackled behind his back. The door to the dark, spacious, oddly clean dungeon he is stuck in is still open, and he cannot let it close. Robin has to get out of here.

He can’t afford to be jailed even for a few days, as his Maid Mary Anne is not going to last much longer. 

Robin’s dark hair falls into his face, and he tries to shake it from his line of sight as he meets the eyes of the person standing in the doorway. The person standing between him and the outside world. 

The Sheriff of Boningham.

The Sheriff’s expression is smug, bordering on triumphant. He smirks as he strokes his golden and gray goatee. He was always so obsessed with catching Robin out. He must be thrilled. 

But he must have a heart too. Robin has to explain. This is about a woman’s life.

“Please,” he says, voice raw. “I only took as much gold as I needed. There was nothing else I could do.”

The Sheriff’s lips curl upwards. He has the air of a housecat playing with a doomed mouse. “Oh?” he asks. “There was nothing you could do but steal? Why, pray tell?”

“I am happy with my simple life, my cottage with Mary Anne and Friar Dick,” Robin explains. “You know my glory days of thieving are behind me, but Mary Anne is terribly ill, and the town doctor told me that there was only one way to save her—drow come. A medicinal come bath.”

The Sheriff snorts a little. “In this economy?”

“That’s what I said!” Robin cries. “The price of drow come has risen to impossible heights! The only people who have the gold for it…well, they won’t miss the money. So I did what I had to do.”

“How moving,” the Sheriff says wryly, and Robin feels a stab of indignation.

“I know you’re just doing your job,” he spits out, “but I am doing the right thing, and you can too. I need to get out of here, and I need the gold I took. Mary Anne doesn’t have long. She needs that come, and I’ll do anything to get it to her!”

The Sheriff narrows his eyes, and a sly smile spreads across his face. Robin feels a chill travel down his body, but he stays put, his wrists straining against his bonds. “Anything?” he asks.

Robin nods. “Anything at all.”

“Well,” the Sheriff purrs, “I can think of one way for you to repay your debt to society and get out of here tonight. I’d even look the other way if you took that bag of gold from my desk…”

Hope flares in Robin’s mind. “Yes. _Anything.”_

The Sheriff takes a few long, slow steps towards Robin until he is looming over him. His crotch is in front of Robin’s face, and as his long fingers travel down to undo the clasp on his trousers, Robin realizes, with a jolt, what is about to happen. 

He has never been with a man before. 

The Sheriff’s cock is long and thick. It’s huge. 

The Sheriff fists a hand in Robin’s hair, and brings Robin’s head closer, so that Robin’s lips are brushing the tip of his cock. Pre-come slicks Robin’s cracked lips, and he shudders.

_It’s worth it,_ he reminds himself. 

“Open up,” the Sheriff says, and Robin has no choice but to do as he is told. 

The Sheriff’s huge cock shoves its way into Robin’s mouth with no preamble, and Robin gags and sputters. The Sheriff rolls his hips forward, letting out a guttural groan, and Robin chokes on his thick length. Robin tries to pull back some, but the Sheriff tightens his hands in his hair, keeping him in place. 

Tears spill unbidden from Robin’s eyes simply from the effort of trying to breathe. He sucks desperately at the Sheriff’s cock, drool running down his chin and dripping to the concrete floor. Surely the Sheriff will be spent soon.

The Sheriff fucks Robin’s face, tightening his hands in his hair and muttering, “Take it, whore, I always knew you wanted me…”

Robin’s bound wrists ache, a burn that crawls up his shoulders, and his knees are rubbed raw against the floor. 

The Sheriff’s hips jerk forward once, even harder than before, and Robin lets out a muffled cry as the Sheriff lets loose a guttural groan and comes. His semen rushes down Robin’s throat, and Robin struggles to move away, but he is held in place. 

“Swallow, whore,” the Sheriff grunts, and Robin obeys. 

Finally, the Sheriff pushes Robin backwards, off of his cock, and Robin gasps for breath as semen and drool drips down his chin. The Sheriff’s cock is still all he sees, and he notices with horror that it’s still erect, dripping with spit and semen. 

“Was that not enough for you?” Robin asks, tearing his eyes away from the Sheriff’s cock to look at the man’s face, humiliation and hatred making him bold.

He regrets the question immediately when the Sheriff’s wolfish smile widens. A spasmodic shiver runs down Robin’s spine, and he flexes his wrists against his bonds, but they do nothing but bite against his skin. Robin stares up at the Sheriff, helpless, and reminds himself that this is not for him. It’s for his sweet Mary Anne. 

Shamefully, the thought does nothing to quell the despair that surges within him when the Sheriff says, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet.” 

Robin expects to be forced to suck the Sheriff off again, but instead one of the hands fisted in Robin’s hair jerks upwards, and Robin yells in pain as he follows the motion and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Blood rushes to Robin’s head, and for a moment he and the Sheriff are face to face, the Sheriff’s flint gray eyes shining with want as Robin’s own eyes must be shining with fear. 

The Sheriff licks his lips, and smiles. His hand untangles itself from Robin’s hair, and then smooths the long, tangled black locks back, the movement inexplicably gentle in contrast with the way the Sheriff grabs Robin’s arms afterwards and spins him around, shoving him against the stone wall before he can gather his bearings. 

Robin’s breath leaves him as the Sheriff roughly pulls his trousers down, and he manages only a choked protest as he feels the Sheriff’s spit slick cock against his cheeks, the head of it rubbing against his hole.

“It’s a good thing you were so enthusiastic when servicing me,” the Sheriff murmurs, breath hot and damp against Robin’s ear. “My cock will certainly go in easier this way.”

Robin has no time to beg for mercy before the Sheriff’s cock splits him open. He gasps in pain as the Sheriff gasps with arousal. 

The Sheriff sets a driving, merciless pace, sinking his cock impossibly deep into Robin, and Robin moans and gasps, trying to grit his teeth against the pain making him see stars. The Sheriff thrusts for what seems a very long time, until his hips begin to stutter, his pace becoming irregular. Then with one final, punishing thrust, he finishes with a cry of pleasure. 

The Sheriff goes limp and heavy against Robin’s back as Robin shudders and swallows down sobs. The Sheriff is breathing hard, but he is finally satisfied as he pulls away from Robin, who can’t swallow down a moan of pain as he sinks to the floor, slumped over. 

The Sheriff rights his clothes and undoes Robin’s bonds. “I’m a man of my word,” he says in a low voice. “The gold is still here. Come and get it when you’re ready.”

And then he walks away, leaving Robin in the dungeon, though he leaves the door open. Robin lets out a sob, wiping saliva and semen from his lips and chin, and then he reminds himself that he has a life to save. He pulls up his trousers, though his arms are stiff and his lower body is numb with pain, and he drags himself to his feet, up the steps of the dungeon, and into the Sheriff’s comfortably lit office.

He is unable to meet the Sheriff’s eyes as he takes the bag of gold from him, and the only reason he walks outside and doesn’t run is because he’s too sore. 

Finally, he is outside, surrounded by green trees lit by the golden moon.

Robin pushes his fingers through his hair. He wipes tears from his eyes. It’s still night-time, he notes with dazed surprise, though dawn will break soon. He tries to stand tall, even as semen trickles down the leg of his trousers and his entire used body aches. 

He breathes in the sweet night air of Boningham, and only barely manages to keep himself from weeping, because he got what he wanted. Mary Anne had but days left without the help of drow come. Now she will have all the come she needs. 

The coin purse clutched in his hand is heavy with gold. His stomach is heavy with shame. 

But the apothecary is on his way home, and so is the precious come he had suffered so for.

When he gets to his cozy little cabin, he will first scramble to a washing bin and make himself just presentable enough to fool his feverish lover into believing he merely went out to steal, and had nothing stolen from him in turn, because Mary Anne cannot know what he’s done. 

But then, then he will go to his love and bathe her gently until she is well again. 

Full of determination, Robin starts forward, and clenches his jaw as pain shoots up his behind. He rubs at one of his raw wrists and decides then and there that he will buy enough medicinal come to cure his own hurts as well.

After all, he can afford it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to within_a_dream for:
> 
> 1) Giving Friar Tuck his porn name.
> 
> 2) Giving me the phrase “dying for want of a come bath”.
> 
> 3) Coaching me through the porn-writing process. I literally could not have done this without her, on account of the fact that it would be an exaggeration to say I've ever actually written porn before.


End file.
